All The Fire

‘Don’t you? Your mother was a very possessive woman, Joanne, surely you realized that. After your father left, you became everything to her.’

‘A bone of contention,’ sighed Joanne unhappily.

‘A sword of victory, you mean,’ said Mrs. Thwaites almost inaudibly. ‘It must have been terribly hard for your father to accept that he no longer had a child except as a name on a certificate.’

‘You never said anything like this before,’ Joanne cried.

‘How could I? Your mother would never have forgiven me for attempting to alienate your affections. At least, that was how she would have seen it. But now, with this opportunity facing you, I feel you should be apprised of some of the facts.’

Joanne nodded. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she agreed again. ‘I suppose Jimmy will understand eventually.’

‘If he loves you, he’ll have to,’ commented Mrs. Thwaites dryly, and Joanne was forced to agree yet again.

Much later, after Mrs. Thwaites had assured herself that there was nothing more she could do and left, Joanne returned to bed. Now she felt less indecisive. If Mrs. Thwaites thought she ought to go, too, then she couldn’t be all wrong in going, could she?

Ultimately she slept, and it was almost eleven o’clock before she woke to the realization that she was meeting Dimitri Kastro at twelve.

CHAPTER THREE (#ufcb0a138-27b9-5c53-86b0-124fdd0724a1)

THE Bell Inn was crowded with lunchtime diners when Joanne entered the reception hall a little after twelve. It was a popular eating place, although not one that Joanne had frequented previously. Pushing her way through to the reception desk, she confronted the young woman who was endeavouring to cope with the internal switchboard as well as handle inquiries. When Joanne asked for Mr. Kastro she looked rather surprised and said:

‘Is he expecting you, Miss – er …?’

‘Nicolas,’ Joanne said helpfully. ‘And yes, he is expecting me.’

The young woman raised arched eyebrows. ‘Oh, very well. Hang on a moment and I’ll ring his suite for you.’

Joanne registered the word ‘suite’ and turned to one side to await developments. Obviously whoever he was and whatever his occupation he was not without affluence. She looked about her with interest as she waited, enjoying the aromas of perfume and cigar smoke, and a faint smell of good food emanating from the restaurant. Most of the group occupying the reception hall seemed to be in a party and were gravitating towards the bar for a drink before their meal. Joanne glanced down at the suit she was wearing, wondering whether she ought to have used the cloakroom before encountering Dimitri Kastro, and then decided she was being unnecessarily self-conscious. After all, she was only here to affirm that she would go to see her father, and it was unlikely that he would notice anything about her.

When she was beginning to feel conspicuously solitary and slightly annoyed that she should be kept waiting a hand touched her arm, and she swung round hastily. Dimitri Kastro stood before her, dark and alien in a bronze-coloured suit and a cream shirt patterned with dark brown. On Jimmy the shirt would have looked informal, but Dimitri Kastro’s darkness gave elegance to his attire.

‘Good morning,’ he said politely, ‘or perhaps I should say good afternoon. I’m sorry if I have kept you waiting, but I had several business calls to make.’

Joanne gathered her composure. ‘That’s quite all right,’ she replied, equally politely. ‘I suppose I could have telephoned my decision. I didn’t think of that last night.’

Dimitri shook his head. ‘I do not care to discuss personal matters on the telephone,’ he replied smoothly. ‘And in any case, there are various arrangements to be made if you have decided to accept your father’s invitation.’

Joanne nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

Dimitri glanced round, and said: ‘Come. We will go into the residents’ bar. We can get a drink there before lunch.’

‘Lunch?’ Joanne frowned uncertainly.

‘But of course. Did I not make this plain yesterday?’

‘Frankly – no.’ Joanne wasn’t at all sure she wanted to have lunch with him. She wasn’t sure she ought to. Jimmy would be hardly likely to approve, for one thing, and for another, her relationship with Dimitri Kastro was a business one and nothing more. Even so, today, after Mrs. Thwaites’ assertions of the night before, she was aware that many women would consider it very exciting to be invited to lunch with him. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a lean hard body, he was certainly attractive, although Joanne wasn’t at all sure she liked such blatant masculinity. Besides, he was far too sophisticated for her tastes, and she didn’t much like the cynical line to his rather sensuous mouth. He looked at her as though he found women easy game and despised them for it.

Now Joanne said: ‘Perhaps we could settle our affairs over a drink, Mr. Kastro. I don’t think I should lunch with you.’

Dimitri Kastro’s dark brows ascended. ‘May I ask why?’ he queried, his accent pronounced as it sometimes was, she had noticed, when he was annoyed.

Joanne shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘Well, to be honest, my fiancé wouldn’t approve.’

The trace of a sardonic smile touched his lips. ‘Would he not?’ he commented thoughtfully. ‘But surely you are old enough to make that kind of decision for yourself.’ There was mockery in his tone.

Joanne felt a faint flush staining her cheeks. ‘That’s not the point …’ she began uncomfortably.

Dimitri Kastro began to look bored. ‘Nevertheless, I feel I must insist,’ he replied, his voice hardening. ‘I do not intend to be dictated to by your fiancé.’

Joanne sighed, and when he indicated that she should precede him across the entrance hall she did so, passing through the swing doors that separated the private apartments of the hotel from the public ones. Here the carpet was thicker, more luxurious, and the residents’ bar was attractively decorated with coloured lights and ships’ wheels. Dimitri suggested that they seated themselves at the bar, and Joanne agreed, perching on one of the tall scarlet padded stools. The bar steward was swiftly summoned and Joanne said she would have a gin and tonic. Dimitri ordered Scotch for himself, and then turned sideways to study Joanne as he spoke.

‘Now; do I take it that you have decided to accept your father’s invitation?’

Joanne ran her tongue over dry lips. ‘Yes,’ she said quickly, before she had a chance to change her mind, and then felt an immense sense of anxiety at her impulsiveness.

‘Good.’ Dimitri nodded briefly at the steward who brought their drinks. He pushed Joanne’s glass towards her, and added: ‘I rather thought you might.’

Joanne frowned. ‘You say that as though you think I have some ulterior motive for agreeing,’ she said sharply. ‘Let me assure you that my reasons are not personal ones. My fiancé is against the whole affair, and he doesn’t consider I owe my father anything. He thinks I’m crazy for going, jeopardizing my job at a time when we should be concentrating on saving for a house. As for my aunt – well, she doesn’t know yet, but she won’t like it either. She is my mother’s sister, and obviously she’ll consider I’m being unfaithful to her memory.’ Her cheeks were heated as she finished, and Dimitri toyed with his glass thoughtfully.

‘I see,’ he said, drawing out his case of cheroots. ‘This – er – young man – Jimmy; he doesn’t consider it a worthy gamble?’

Joanne stared at him incomprehensively. ‘What do you mean?’

Dimitri raised his dark brows. ‘Never mind,’ he replied evasively. ‘Come; we must discuss details.’

Joanne sipped her drink with some misgivings. She was aware that in spite of his eagerness to persuade her to go and see her father Dimitri Kastro did not trust her. But she didn’t care, she told herself with some impatience. It was actually nothing to do with him, and she couldn’t see what his involvement was. Being a distant cousin gave him no rights so far as she was concerned.

‘Tell me, Mr. Kastro,’ she said suddenly, ‘do you work for my father?’

Dimitri Kastro shook his head. ‘No. Why?’

Joanne bit her lip. ‘I just wondered. You do have a job, though, do you?’ She was being inquisitive and she knew it. After all, it was none of her business.

Dimitri gave her a sardonic smile. ‘Oh, yes, I have a job,’ he answered. Then: ‘Shall we go through to the restaurant? They’re saving a table for us.’

Joanne noticed that he had finished his drink and hastily swallowed the rest of hers. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he had deliberately snubbed her although his manner was as urbane as before.

In the restaurant the waiter escorted them to a table near the tall windows and left them with the menu. Dimitri studied his with some concentration and then said: ‘Have you any preference? Myself, I find your food lacking in variety.’

Joanne studied the list of dishes available. ‘Perhaps you ought to try the Chinese restaurant,’ she commented coolly. ‘They have a much wider variety. I understand their food is quite colourful!’

Dimitri lowered his menu and regarded her over its rim. ‘Thank you for the suggestion,’ he murmured mockingly, unperturbed by her attempt at retaliation. ‘However, there is a Greek restaurant in Brownsgate, so I’ve been informed, and if I feel the need for sustenance I can always go there!’

Joanne refrained from answering him. She felt certain that whatever she might say he would have a ready answer for her, and it was rather annoying to feel continually at a disadvantage. With Jimmy she felt his equal, but this man seemed bent on submitting her to his will. She studied him surreptitiously from behind the menu. She was aware that several feminine eyes had turned in their direction as they entered and she wondered if they were causing speculation among this gathering of business men and country squires. Although Oxhampton was only fifty miles from London it was mainly a farming community and such industry as there was was confined to dairy production. Therefore Dimitri Kastro was bound to arouse interest particularly with his foreign manner and swarthy appearance.

Finally Joanne decided to have a prawn cocktail followed by steak and salad, and with a faint smile in her direction Dimitri ordered the same. Then he ordered some wine and sat back to regard her thoughtfully.

‘Your father is delighted with your decision,’ he said casually, astounding her by the calm indifference of his statement.